


Singing Mercenaries

by BlueBunny75



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Just enjoy, Songfic, i dunno, thats what its called right?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 07:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19102924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBunny75/pseuds/BlueBunny75
Summary: Who knew that the Demoman, the Soldier, the Scout, and the Sniper could sing?





	1. Scout

The evening was strangely normal, knowing the mercenaries. It was quiet to, unless you entered the common room, or better known as the living room. Everyone was in there, chatting away and enjoying their day off from the war. 

Spy leaned against a wall smoking and being ever so anti-social. Sniper was in the same pose, but was talking with Scout and not smoking.

Engineer was sitting on one of the comforters, talking with Medic about something mechanical, anyone who listens in never really understands so they just gave up trying. Medic was sitting on the couch next to Demo and Soldier on the other far end. 

Soldier was loudly chatting with the Demoman about their jump kills the previous day as Heavy, sitting on another comforter next to the loud man, quietly watches Pyro play with matches in the center of the room, sitting on the wooden floor.

The evening, as said, was strangely normal and calm. And the day seems to have ended that way as well. It wasn’t until late into the night, near 11pm did something happen. 

Everyone filed out of the room about halfway to 11, with Scout staying behind, claiming to wanting to clean up Pyro’s ashes. It’s a surprisingly more difficult job then just getting a broom, so with only minor confusion, Scout was alone in the living room. He turned to the ashes. Pausing to think, the speedster went to his room, only to come back a few minutes later. He was holding a small box with speakers, making what it is all the more obvious. The Scout set the small speaker on the table and turned away back down the hall he just came from. 

Just before he reaches his room door, he stops to open a closet. In this said closet is cleaning supplies. Brooms, mops, a bucket or two which go unfound by Soldier, and bottles of soaps. Chemicals for cleaning like bleach are held in the infirmary, and he didn’t need bleach thankfully. Scout reached in and pulled out a broom and pan, along with some floor soap.

Entering back into the living room, he set the supplies he has gathered onto the coffee table before turning to the kitchen. In there, he grabs a sponge. 

Finally, he can get to cleaning. He grabs the broom and leans over the speaker, pressing a button on the top. A screen lights up and takes a few seconds to fully load. As the boy waits, he thinks of a song to play.

At this point, Scout has an idea of what song to play and starts looking for it. A small smile spread across face and he presses another button, then turns back to Pyro’s ash pile.

A few cords are strung on a guitar as Scout takes a breath.

“It was 6:48 and I was walking home, stepped to the gate and I’m all alone, I had chicken on the plate but the food was cold then I covered up my face so that no one knows,” The boy takes a breath, picking up the broom pan. “I didn’t want trouble. I’m the boy in the bubble. But then came trouble.”

He continued to sing as he stepped away into the kitchen, dumping what he got into the garbage. He entered back into the living room and ignored the flash of color beside the door to the hallway. Someone’s just walking past.

“I said I didn’t want trouble, I’m the boy in the bubble,” He pauses his movement, “but then came trouble.”

He finishes up sweeping the dust into the pan, and as he stood up to walk back to the kitchen to dump the ash into the garbage he paused again and sang in a louder voice.

“Punch my face! Do it cause I like the pain!” He continued walking, “Every time you curse my name, I know you want the satisfaction, it’s not going to happen.” Scout dropped his voice when he sang the last part.

He continued his song as he moved from the living room to the kitchen and back. As he set down the broom and pan, he sang “Well I squared him up with my chest exposed, he threw a quick left hook and it broke my nose.” The Scout mimicked a punch with his left hand before he grabs the soap. He continued, “I had thick red blood running down my clothes and a sick, sick look ‘cause I like it though.”

He poured some soap onto the sponge he grabbed earlier and took a breath. 

“I said I didn’t want trouble, I’m the boy in the bubble, but then came trouble.”

The speedy boy knelt down beside the stain and started scrubbing, washing away the stain left behind. “Chest was screaming, air was freezin’, put my hands up,” He held his hands up in fist, imitating a brawler, “put my hands up, I told this kid I’m ready for a fight.”

The stain was already gone, and Scout knew this, but he wanted to finish the song first. He set the sponge down on the coffee table. The Scout then turned away so his right side is facing the speaker and continued.

“-you curse my name! I know you want the satisfaction, it’s not gunna happen. Knock me out!” He turned his head to a side.

“Kick me while I’m on the ground! It’s only gunna let you down, I’m the lightning and the thunder, you’re the one that suffers,” He gives the air in front of him a cold look, “Suffers.”

The fast mercenary stands in the middle on the living room for a moment or two longer, holding his look and smirking. After said moment passes, he turns to his speaker with a calmer expression and grabs the cleaning supplies, sponge being the first to be put away.

The youngest turns to the hallway door and catches another glimpse of color passing by. He enters the hallway and spots Demo entering his room, Medic farther down the hall, and Engie down the opposite direction. Thinking nothing of it, the boy set the supplies back where he found it and quickly grabbed his speaker. 

Turning back down the hallway and passing the closet, Scout entered his own room and set the speaker back where he had retrieved it from. Flopping down onto his bed, the boy decided that for once in a very long time, he'll head to bed early. Hopefully no one heard his 'bad' singing...


	2. Soldier

Cooking dinner, depending on the person at hand, isn’t much of a problem. And with the system of turns each mercenary has to cook (save for Pyro, bless whoever eats with they make) it usually goes off without a hitch.

Today is Soldier’s turn to make dinner. 

Usually, Soldier would just throw some cans into the microwave and call it a day. (Soldier prefers the canned goods cold, unlike the others. Wimps.)

But not today. No, no not today. Today, Soldier wanted to test his cooking limits. Not that he hasn’t tried before, but that hasn’t stopped him. Today, Soldier wanted to see what he can really make without canned foods, or the least amount of canned foods.

He stepped into the kitchen and paused in the doorway, pausing to glance around first. Deciding to check the inventory of the kitchen as the best first action, he began to shuffle through cupboards and the fridge. He began to hum as he did so.

The song wasn’t anything specific, just random notes. But, as he started pulling out spaghetti noodles, he remembered a song he memorized before the war. Quickly changing the notes to varying levels of pitch, he grabbed a pot. He quickened his humming speed as he filled the pot with water, and finally began to sing when he set the pot down on the stove.

“A young man walked through the forest with his quiver and hunting bow,” he started soft, turning on the heat on the coordinating spot to high. “He heard a young girl singing and followed the sound bellow.”

He was gradually coming up to a comfortable volume, his gravelly voice making some of the words sound off, but he didn’t mind. Soldier set the pan he snatched down on the stove and turned away to the freezer. 

“There he found the maiden who lives in the willow. He called to her as she listened from a ring of toadstools red, ‘Come with me my maiden, come from thy willow bed.’” He picked up the ground beef and turned around to a counter, grabbing a knife as he passed. “She looked at him serenely and only shook her head. ‘See me now, a ray of light in the moondance, See me now, I can not leave this place. Hear me now, a strain of song in the forest. Don’t ask me, to follow where you lead.’”

He picked up the pieces of thin plastic he cut from the meat and moved to throw it away. As Soldier passed the doorway, he could have sworn he saw a color flash. Believing his mind was just playing tricks on his mind again, he continued on his mission, taking the ground beef and placed it in the pan. He turned on the heat to high. 

“A young man walked through the forest with a flower and a coat of green. His love had hair like fire, her eyes an emerald sheen. She wrapped herself in beauty, so young and so serene.” Soldier moved the meat around with a wooden spoon. He had already set the noodles into the pot, breaking them in half. “He stood there under the willow and he gave her the yellow bloom. ‘Girl my heart you’ve captured, oh I would be your groom.’ She said she’d wed him never, not near nor far nor soon. ‘See me now, a ray of light in the moondance, see me now, I can not leave this place. Hear me now, a strain of song in the forest. Don’t ask me, to follow where you lead.’”

Soldier is now stirring the noodles with a different, plastic spoon-like ladle. He sang a few ‘hey’s and pulled the ladle out of the pot. As he set the plastic spoon down and turned to a cupboard he took a deep breath.

“A young man walked through the forest with an axe sharp as a knife. ‘I’ll take the green eyed fairy and she shall be my wife. With her I’ll raise my children, with her I’ll live my life.’” Soldier sang loudly, emphasizing some words. He took the sauce he found and set it on the counter beside the stove. Grabbing the wooden spoon, he continued.

“The maiden wept when she heard him, when he said he’d set her free. He took his axe and used it to bring down her ancient tree. ‘Now your willow’s fallen, now you belong to me.’” After checking to make sure all the meat is brown, he lowered the heat and added the sauce. Some of the meat has turned a dark dark brown on the underside, but nothing too bad. He turned to the noodles and pulled one out.

“She followed him out the forest and collapsed upon the earth, her feet had walked but a distance from the greenland of her birth.” Now singing in a softer voice, Soldier moved over to a wall and took the noodle off it. “She faded into a flower that would bloom for one bright eve. He could not take from the forest, what was never meant to leave.”

Placing the noodle back in the pot, he turned the heat off completely, along with the meat’s. Turning and grabbing some plates and forks, he set them down the same counter used to open the meat. There was a strainer in the sink already, put in there way earlier.

Soldier grabbed the hot pot as carefully as he could--He didn’t want a non-Pyro involved burn--and brought it over to the sink. After he poured in the noodles, he put the pot down on a non hot stovetop and picked up the strainer. He used the ladle to pick up bundles of noodles and set them on the plates.

He then brought the now plates of spaghetti over to the sauce and used the wooden to add it. After each plate if finished, he brings the plates into a different room connecting to the kitchen. It is the dining room, and he sets the plates down on the table.

Just as he sets the last plate down, he turns back to the kitchen. It’s routinely, and polite to the person doing dishes, to at least rinse the dishes you used. As he finished doing that, he could hear chatter in the other room about something. 

No, not something, someONE. Someone and their...singing voice? 

Entering the room itself, Soldier found Sniper, Engineer, and Scout all sitting at the table with a plate. The foremost looked up and chuckled. 

“Speak o’ the devil and ‘e shall appear.”

The latter looked up with sauce all over his face and spaghetti in his mouth. He opened his mouth to speak, then quickly closed it to finish eating. After finishing his bite, Scout opened his mouth again and spoke.

“Hey, look! The singers here! You gotta nice voice, ya know that?”

The engineer just chuckled as he watched the man in the doorway grow a progressively darker shade of red. The Soldier, for once, was quiet as he sat down in front of a plate.

Sniper and Scout, mainly Scout, continued to tease Soldier about it as the others come in for dinner. They all caught wind quickly, Soldier can sing, he just doesn’t do it often. 

‘Well,’ Soldier thought, hunched over his plate with a red face, ‘this is going to be an interesting night.’


	3. Sniper

After dinner, when all the dishes are in the sink, someone has to do the dishes. It’s routinely, like cooking, and tonight is Sniper’s turn. 

Dinner in on itself has been interesting, to say the least. 

Walking past to get to the dining room with Scout and Engineer, the three of them heard Soldier saying something. He paused just outside the door to listen, and heard some of the words were dragged and had different pitches.

Soldier was singing.

Sniper quietly motioned the others over as they heard him sing loudly about a man with an axe, a lady, and a willow. Soldier goes quiet and lowly sings about the girl following the man and dieing, turning into a flower. After that he’s quiet and they hear him shuffle back and forth for a while before stopping and the water starts running.

Engineer motions the group of men to the dining room and takes a seat before a plate. The other two following suite. They all started eating and were mildly shocked at how good it actually was, and started talking to each other about Soldier. Not only on his cooking skills, but his singing skills as well.

The water had stopped running a bit ago, and Engie was just saying on how Soldiers voice is surprisingly good considering on how gruffy it sounds when said man walks in. 

Scout proceeded to poke fun at him as the rest of the mercenaries filed in. All said men all have set themselves before a plate when the scout poked at the offense mercenary for the part they heard of his song. Engineer had started chuckling and mumbled something that everyone else caught.

"You are quite one to talk for doin' the very same thin’."

Apparently, Soldier isn't the only one who sang something aloud that week. Scout went as red as his own shirt and mimicked the strangely quiet man across from him.

From then on, after a few teases from the rest of the group, it was quite uneventful. Then, Sniper was sent to the kitchen with the dishes to clean up, and that is the point we are at now.

Sniper, standing and staring at the sink as it slowly filled up with hot water and soap bubbles. He was quiet, but that’s normal of him. He’s instinctively quiet, as if he wasn’t supposed to be there. But, the sound of just running water is too much. 

He stopped the water and began to set the cups into it. It’s nine cups in total, so each load can be done quickly. It’s quiet again, waiting for the water to soak. Hm. Too quiet. Maybe some music? No, the radio broke last week thanks to Demo having it too close to a haywire explosion and Soldier smashing it because it wouldn’t play ‘only American’ songs.

So now Engie’s fixing it, which takes a while. So, it’s up to Sniper to sing. But what song does he fully know? That song Soldier was singing sounded nice, but Sniper already forgot it. Well, there is another song…

He grabbed the cups and the brush for cups. He paused for a second before humming, continuing on. He was scrubbing the second when he began to mutter the lyrics.

“I know I took the path that you’d never want from me. I know I let you down, didn’t I?” He set the cup down in the other mostly empty sink and reached for a third cup. “So many sleepless nights where you were waiting up on me, well I’m just a slave onto the night.”

Sniper began to think about his parents back in Australia, and reached for a fourth cup. 

“Now remember when I told you that’s the last you’ll see of me,” He thought about saying that to his father.

“Remember when I broke you down to tears,” He imagined about his mother, sitting at home on her favorite chair, knitting with a long face.

“I know I took the path that you’d never want from me, I gave you hell through all the years.” He set the last cup down and moved to place the plates in the sink with water. With a deep breath, he sang louder.

“So I, I bet my life, I bet my life, I bet my life on you. I, I bet my life, I bet my life, I bet my life on you.” He dropped his tone and sang in a softer tone, placing the fourth cup into the cupboard. “I’ve been around the world and never in my wildest dreams, would I come running home to you. I’ve told a million lies but now I tell a single truth, there’s you in everything I do. Now remember when I told you that’s the last you’ll see of me, remember when I broke you down to tears.” He was almost swaying his hips, imitating a beat. He turned to the plates and began to work on those. His head was swaying with his hips, unaware of how loud he was singing. “I know I took the path that you would never want from me, I gave you hell through all the years.

“So I, I bet my life, I bet my life, I bet my life on you. I, I bet my life, I bet my life, I bet my life on you.” He dropped his tone and hummed out a tune. His swaying stopped, but work hasn’t. He was onto the sixth plate.

“Don’t tell me that I’m wrong, I’ve walked that road before, I’ve left you on your own. Please, forgive them when they say, that it’s left me yesterday, the records that I play,” He paused in his work of grabbing the silverware and dropped not only his volume, but his head as well, voice nearly a whisper.

“Please, forgive me, for all I’ve done.” With a quick breath, Sniper looked up and sang loudly, “So I, I bet my life, I bet my life, I bet my life on you. I, I bet my life, I bet my life, I bet my life on you.”  The sharpshooter looked back down to the sink and paused for a couple seconds, catching his breath. After a few moments of thought, he continued on with the last of the dishes, humming snippets of random songs.

A man leaner than Sniper, the Spy, gently pushed off the doorway, and turned back around to the living room across the hallway. He can grab that apple later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one I'm not so sure about either, but I like it better than Soldier's chapter. Demo is up next!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really a fan of this one, especially considering the ending in my drafts isn't the same as the ending here, but I'm still publishing it. I can revise it when I'm better at writing.


End file.
